


Distracted Driving

by Cameron_McKell



Series: Upon Further Review [23]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Evolution, Tron: Legacy (2010), Tron: Uprising
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grid Security Suite, Lightjets, M/M, Nonverbal Communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cameron_McKell/pseuds/Cameron_McKell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Oft. Lightjets, Quorra, and because I'm terrible at writing unhappy things, kind of ridiculous. Spot the references.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distracted Driving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oft/gifts).



[ISOQuorra?]

 

Quorra turned slightly at the ping to regard Tron over Sam's shoulder; typically, both of them – and almost every program on the Grid – defaulted to User-friendly communication outputs when a User was present, usually basic audio. The fact that Sam was _right here_ and Tron had deliberately chosen an input that he couldn't understand, gave her the impression that this was a secret.

 

[Yes?]

 

[Requesting instructional input.] Reading the surprised look she shot him, Tron continued, walking forward until he was within Sam's sight-line, thereby distracting him from Quorra's visual output discrepancies with her basic audio input/output. [Attaching reference video file.]

 

She reviewed the video file while Tron suddenly began voicing concerns over a series of tedious, moderately important but low priority adjustments that would take Sam at least 2 millicycles to see to by himself, and suddenly she understood.

 

[Instructional input already within TRON-JA-307020 database. Additional input extraneous.]

 

Tron spared her a brief, slightly frustrated look, and extended the distance to which he shook his head to answer both ISO and User, “I'm not all-powerful, as you [both] seem to think. [Persistent instructional input = persistent growth.] Please. This could be very important in the future.”

 

Sam sighed, then rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, “Yeah, okay. Sure, Tron; I'm happy to help.”

 

Quorra found herself repeating the sentiments, and Tron smiled, then pinged Quorra with coordinates. She acknowledged the information, then went on ahead to give the two of them some privacy. It made her wonder, though, why Tron was keeping this from Sam.

 

She drafted a reminder to ask about this, and shifted her light runner's gears.

 

* * *

 

“So, why did you want to keep Sam uninformed?”

 

Tron stalled his reply until he finished looking over the baton, then tossed it over to Quorra. She caught it, then folded her arms, waiting, until Tron finally relented, “Because I want to keep him informed.”

 

“Invalid entry, try again,” Quorra retorted, watching as Tron grabbed up a baton for himself, as well as a spare, examined them, then clipped them in place. He turned and started for the edge of the launch platform, and Quorra hustled to walk in step with him.

 

“Out There,” Tron began hesitantly, with a significant glance toward the portal, “Every time I have a question, or fail to understand something, I can ask Sam, and he'll tell me. Similarly, when he's Here, he asks me. At some point, I'll no longer have the answer, so the only solution is to gather in more. As many as I can.”

 

She just stared at Tron, until he began to hunch in on himself reflexively, then she smirked slightly, “You like having the answers.”

 

“Well, yes,” he replied, somewhat baffled; who _wouldn't_ enjoy having additional information? “I also like that he trusts that I'll have his answers, even if they were recently acquired.”

 

She laughed a little, then gestured with her baton, “Fair enough. Let's go learn, then.”

 

She dove over the edge, body soon wrapped about a lightjet, Tron close behind.

 

[Acknowledge lightjet model discrepancy?]

 

[Discrepancy acknowledged. Instructional input still applicable?]

 

[86.881% projected applicable.]

 

[Acceptable.]

 

With that established, Quorra focused her attention on flying, particularly maneuvers that seemed senseless or recklessly unsafe.

 

* * *

 

In Tron's defense, he'd been distracted.

 

Rail and Serif were having compatibility conflicts _again_ , Reeve was transferring a status update on Sam's progress, and Anon had just finished running through his calibration tests after the last – thankfully minor – gridbug attack.

 

Anon being back at full capacity probably explained why Quorra was distracted as well.

 

So it was that neither of them had noticed until too late what their projected courses were.

 

**[gsstRAIL to TRON-JA-307020: SerifWU currently running outside operational parameters!]**

 

 _[SerifWU to TRON-JA-307020: gsstRAIL_ _appropriated misdirected privileges!]_

 

[TRON-JA-307020 to SerifWU, gsstRAIL: Terminate current actions and relocate 15 meters away from each other, effective immediately.]

 

They both acknowledged the direction, and he returned his focus to their aerial maneuvers; he and Quorra were practicing straight vertical climbs, establishing when the lightjet engines would cut out, and what could be done to prolong the upward motion of jets of the same model, to provide that extra edge in aerial combat.

 

The previous cut-off barrier was fast approaching, so Tron shifted the jet into overdrive in an attempt to punch through it, when he was pinged again.

 

[00ANON-7 to TRON-JA-307020: Units SerifWU and gsstRAIL engaged in combat.]

 

[TRON-JA-307020 to 00ANON-7: Calculated probability of deresolution?]

 

[00ANON-7 to TRON-JA-307020: 14.22% probability of Unit deresolution, 98.374% probability of environmental deresolution. Intercepted airborne copy of User word document “The Art of War”.]

 

[TRON-JA-307020 to 00ANON-7: Redirect Units gsstRail, SerifWU to corner quarantine pending my return, provided sufficient operational capacity?]

 

[00ANON-7 to TRON-JA-307020: Acknowledged. Operational capacity within acceptable task stress parameters.]

 

[TRON-JA-307020 to 00ANON-7: Advisory – avoid operating past 75% tolerances, pending review by ISOQuorra. Calculated risk of further damage, see attached transcript 'TRON-JA-307020 from ROM-YORI-4: reference tag “Going to get yourself derezzed” “I'll show you 'overreacting'.”'.]

 

**[gsstRAIL to TRON-JA-307020: Under attack by Unit 00ANON-7!]**

 

_[SerifWU to TRON-JA-307020: Error! 00ANON-7 engaging SerifWU in combat!]_

 

[00ANON-7 to TRON-JA-307020: Advisory acknowledged.]

 

The engine cut out.

 

_[SerifWU to TRON-JA-307020: Requesting assistance! Forced relocation in progress!]_

 

The lightjet tipped, and he started to fall...

 

_**[5UP3R-C-reeve to TRON-JA-307020: Update of actions taken by UserID: Sam_Flynn ready for transfer. Confirm?]** _

 

[TRON-JA-307020 to 5UP3R-C-reeve: Delay transfer, pending – ]

 

**[gsstRAIL to TRON-JA-307020: Connection check, respond – ]**

 

_[SerifWU to TRON-JA-307020: SerifWU to TRON- ]_

 

 _…_ right into Quorra.

 

He went offline briefly, then came back on to see Quorra in free-fall approximately 3.6576 meters ahead of him, rocks rushing by to either side of them, and the Sea far down below.

 

A fall into the Sea from this height would be lethal, due to pre-programmed surface tension parameters, and he only had his spare baton.

 

He didn't have a second one for Quorra.

 

She came back online at this point, and seemed to come to a similar conclusion.

 

[Tron – ]

 

The rocks continued to rush by.

 

[Invalid entry. ISOQuorra, assume standard free-fall position, approach incoming.]

 

He had a plan.

 

While she spread her limbs out, to slow her fall as much as possible, he did the exact opposite, streamlining his body to catch up, until he could get an arm around her midsection; propriety was a lesser concern over structural stability at this point.

 

Ignoring the steadily-more-alarmed long-distance messages he was receiving, he pulled out the spare baton, holding it where Quorra could see what he was doing as he switched settings. Her frame shifted with the understanding, locking tightly around his own.

 

Two rocks, floating relatively close together came rushing up to their right, and Tron calculated them as their best bet.

 

The baton, newly shifted to the light cable setting, struck out at, then embedded deep into the raw data, shifting their fall into a swing; the sudden force, followed by persistent pressure tore something in the structure of his arm, but he turned the pain input off and held on.

 

Contact-scanning in a way that Users simply could not do, Quorra detected the damage, and reached to hold onto the baton herself, easing the stress of her additional mass off an already compromised line of support, until their swing reached the far end of its height over a larger, relatively flat rock.

 

They both let go, stumbling into a mostly-safe landing on the now wobbly floating data.

 

Tron sat down, turning the pain input back on so he could fully, properly assess the damage that centered around his shoulder.

 

“Well,” Quorra huffed, then plopped down onto the rock next to him, “That was exciting.”

 

Tron ducked his head and looked away, “Sorry.”

 

“You're not the only one at fault, so neither of us are,” she replied with a bit of User logic, and unceremoniously plucked his disks off so she could look over Tron's damage herself.

 

Deciding not to argue against the User logic – he _never_ won anyway – he turned his focus back inward, and realized there was a rather extensive backlog of status requests in his inbox now.

 

They must have felt him go offline, then.

 

He gave Reeve the go ahead to transfer the update information, reminded Serif and Rail they were still confined to their respective quarantines – he was going to have a long 'discussion' with the two of them about environmental destruction, and property gifted from the Users – and logged an extraction request with an agitated Anon. He acknowledged, then relayed a tentative ETA based on average light fighter speeds; of the entire security suite, Anon had the least amount of piloting experience – even Rail had more, and he was specialized for ground-based combat – so this mission would be a good log of flight time for him, without any combat stress but still requiring precision flying to avoid missing the two of them, or knocking them off their rock.

 

If he intended to take the gunner's seat despite his greater flight experience, leaving Anon and Quorra to pilot together and assess each other, well. He had his reasoning prepared, at least.

 

All they had to do was wait.

 

“You know Sam's going to hear about this eventually,” Quorra pointed out when the light fighter was finally within visual range.

 

“I know.”

 

“What will you tell him?”

 

“The truth,” he glanced over at her, and offered a tentative, playful smirk, “I got my jet to fly higher without cutting out than yours.”

 

She cuffed him on the back of the head and laughed.


End file.
